Two of the contest assistants strode into the fray with an oversized check made out in the amount of one hundred thousand dollars.
“Stand close you two,” said the photographer. “And smile real big. This goes on the cover of Surfer magazine.”
Thirty-Eight
Lola
“Can I open my eyes now?”
“Not yet.” Justice led me up the steps, the blindfold tight over my eyes.
“I can’t wait for her to see it.” Bobbie’s voice was a squeal as she led the way.
I took the last three steps, and my foot hit a wooden floor.
“Don’t keep her in suspense too long,” Ginger said.
“Yeah,” Papaw said. “Give the kid a break.”
My heartbeat sped up as a faint breeze of ocean air hit my nose. Justice held my hand tightly. “What do you think, gang?”
Papaw, Bobbie, and Ginger nearly screamed at Justice to remove the blindfold.
“Three, two, one.” Justice untied the blindfold, and when I saw his surprise, my hand flew to my mouth.
“Oh, my God!”
Justice and Papaw had been working hard over the past month on a top-secret remodeling project in the loft above the surf shop. I felt like a kid on Christmas morning when I looked around the beautiful artist’s loft.
Gleaming hardwood floors shone underneath my feet, a bank of picture windows allowed natural light to stream into the room with a sweeping view of the glittering Pacific Ocean. A drafting table stood against one wall with colored pencils, wire basket drawers filled with artist’s sketchpads. Stations containing samples of fabrics stood against another wall. Racks for samples of products and mannequins for fitting my designs were also included.
Justice stood in front of me, a grin on his handsome face. “You like it?”
“I love it! So this is what you guys have been working on so long?” Happiness filled my being. “You thought of everything!” I sat at a desk that had been ergonomically designed and equipped with a state-of-the-art Mac computer. I ran my fingertips across the sleek contemporary design. “I didn’t think I’d ever have a computer this nice.”
“It’s got all the best software,” Bobbie enthused. “Adobe Illustrator, Photoshop, InDesign. Of course, I still get to design your website.”
I patted her head. “You, my faithful money manager, have full rein over my website.”
Justice held my hand. “I can’t wait to see your new designs. Now that you’re a full-time clothing designer and all.”
I made a slow tour of the studio, soaking in every single gorgeous detail. I smiled when I looked at the photo over my drafting table. “You had it enlarged.”
Justice put his arm around me as we looked at a photo of the two of us holding the trophy at the wave pool, happy smiles on our faces. “We look pretty good in living color.”
Ginger said, “Lola, I think you better keep this one.” She winked at me. “These Hamilton guys are gems.”
Papaw drew her into a hug. “You just have a fondness for the rugged type. Can’t say I blame you.”
Bobbie jumped up and down. “Show her the rest.”
“There’s more?” I said.
Thirty-Nine
Justice
I held my fingers together. “Just an itty bitty little present I couldn’t resist getting you.”
“Haven’t you spoiled me enough?”
“Babe, I haven't even started.”
Lola gave me a mischievous grin. “Well, let’s get on with it. Because I think you and I have a surf session to get in before the sun sets.” She threw her arms around me and I inhaled her feminine scent. “After I properly thank you for this …” Her eyes filled with tears and she lifted a fist to her mouth. “I can’t believe all the work you put into this. It’s my dream studio. Oh, honey, I love it.”
I gripped her soft hand in mine. “Walk this way.”
The five of us trooped down the steps, and I led Lola outside and halfway down the block to the far side of the Blue Tide, where Papaw and I had been working at all hours building walls and floors, drywalling, and painting a new store next to the surf shop. A large tarp covered the display window and, just like a magician unveiling a sleight of hand surprise, I whipped the tarp down. “It’s not done yet, but …”
She let out a gasp. We’d commissioned an artist to recreate Lola’s logo with her signature vibrant pinks, oranges, teal blues, and reds. The sign said, “Brazilian Gypsy – Bikinis by Lola.”
I pulled the key out of my pocket and handed it to her. “It’s all yours, babe.”
“I— I … don’t know what to say.” She gripped the key tightly in her hand and squealed. “My very own shop. I’ve always dreamed of this.”
“Open it,” Bobbie yelled.
She slid the key into the lock, and the door opened smoothly.
I placed a hand on her lower back. “Like I said, it’s not done yet.”
The large space was empty except for one thing. The very first thing that would greet Lola every morning was a sleek black metal sign that said, “You’re Pretty Much My Most Favorite of All Time in the History of Ever.”
Her fingers touched her lips. Her voice was a whisper. “It’s our saying. Oh honey, you never forgot.”
I took her hands and gazed into her eyes. Her big brown eyes shone with passion, and I had never felt more connected to my best friend and lover. “I could never forget.”
Then she ran through the space, babbling like a kid. “I’ll put my bikini racks here, and when my clothing line comes out, I’ll stack the panties here, the dresses here …”
A rolling, fluttery feeling filled my belly, and I bit my lip. I reached out and gripped her arm lightly. “Lola?”
She stopped in her tracks and turned to me. “What is it?”
My fingers tingled, and I shook my hands out. “There’s one last thing.”
She cocked her head. “Not another contest. I need to rest up after the wave pool.”
I shook my head. “No. Not another contest.”
I scraped my hair back and bit my lip. I gave Papaw a small smile and noticed that Bobbie, Ginger, and Papaw all wore huge grins.
I looked out the window and stood on tiptoes so that I could just see the breaking waves across the street. “I’ve got our boards waxed and ready.” Suddenly I felt clumsy. “How about a sunset surf?”
She cocked her head. “Right now? Don’t you want to, oh, I don’t know, maybe order pizza and …” Her face flushed pink with excitement. “I’m so happy about my new shop and all I want to do is sit here on the floor and look at it.”
Bobbie and Ginger started talking at the same time.
“Waves are best at sunset,” Bobbie trilled.
“Yeah. I don’t even surf, but any idiot knows that,” Ginger said.
Lola screwed up her face and said, “Can we get pizza after?” She smiled a shy smile. “And ice cream?”
I put my arm around her. “Anything you want.”
We walked across the street with our surfboards, and when we hit the sand, Lola pulled her wetsuit up. She shielded her eyes with one hand. “Better hurry before dark.”
I set my board in the sand and placed a gentle hand on her arm. I breathed out her name. “Lola?”
“C’mon, get your wetsuit on. You know we’ve only got so much time.”
I held her hand. “Wouldn’t you rather sit for a minute?”
“Why would I want to—” She swiveled her head around, and that’s when she noticed the blanket I’d set up earlier next to a rock formation. On it I’d set a silver ice bucket with a bottle of bubbly, two champagne flutes and an array of long-stemmed roses. “What’s this?” she said.
I got down on a bended knee.
Lola gasped, and a hand flew to her chest. “Oh, my God,” she said. I looked at my bride, and it looked like she was having trouble swallowing. “Are you doing what I think you’re doing?”
I gazed up at Lola, and the girl I’d fallen in
love with was now a woman. Her blond, wild hair hung sexily over her face, her radiant eyes aglow.
I took her hand and cleared my throat. “Lola, you were the first girl I ever kissed, and I want you to be the last. If you say yes, we can tent out anytime we want. Every night will be a sleepover, and we can eat popcorn in bed, watch A Nightmare on Elm Street together at night, and surf together during the day. I’ll help you with your business—as long as you promise to ride on the back of my motorcycle. I’ll make sure you laugh every day and well, what we’ll do at night …
“I want you to be my wife for real.” I chuckled. “Not that our trip to the Justice of the Peace wasn’t romantic, but I want to give you an honest-to-god wedding this time.” Her hand gripped mine harder, and her eyes grew wide. “I talked to your dad. I’m still an old-fashioned guy, you know. And when I asked him for your hand in marriage you know what he told me?”
Lola laughed. “What?”
“Well, I didn’t understand all of it because your dad went on one of his Latin tangents where he puts it in fast forward, but part of it sounded like, ‘It’s about time.’” I winked at my lovely bride. “And the other part of it definitely was, ‘Welcome to the family.’”
I sucked in a long breath, and I felt so full of emotion when I thought about our life together, I wondered if I was going to cry just like a baby before I got the rest of my speech out. “Your dad said we could have the wedding at their beach house. He can’t wait to walk you down the aisle.”
Lola’s smile was wide. She broke into a throaty laugh. “My stepmom probably has the dress picked out.”
My hands shook when I reached into my jeans pocket and pulled out the black velvet box. “This was my grandmother’s ring, and I want it to be yours.” I opened the box, and Lola stared at the gorgeous ring—a gold band with a perfect blue opal center, graced by tiny diamonds. I held her hand and smiled. “Doesn’t this blue opal remind you of the ocean? Lola, this time when we get married, it’ll be for real. And forever. Will you marry me?”
She screwed her face up. “I don’t know about that ring. It didn’t come out of a gumball machine.” Then she started laughing so hard that I wondered if she was okay. She finally stopped laughing and wiped tears from her eyes. “Oh, my gosh yes! Yes, yes, yes, I’ll marry you! How can I say no to the man who’s pretty much my most favorite of all time in the history of ever? Justice Hamilton, put that ring on my finger right this second.” I slid the ring on her finger, and it fit perfectly. “Now get up here and give your wife a kiss.”
I stood up, and we kissed. She pressed her large breasts against my chest, and I fell into the warmth and happiness of Lola. She was my best friend, my playmate, my soul mate. The woman I had fallen in love with as a kid would be my forever lover. We kissed long and hard. Her warm tongue tasted like the ocean, sunsets, and passion.
I picked up my wife and spun her around.
“Oh, Lola. I love you!”
“I love you too!”
I kissed her again, and as the sun set we drank champagne and toasted our love, our life, our future.
I was in love with my soul mate.
I couldn’t wait to spend the rest of my life playing house.
THE END
IF YOU ENJOYED THIS BOOK …
A note from Jennifer: Word-of-mouth is the most powerful marketing force on the planet. If you liked this story, I’d love it if you rated this book and left a review. You don’t have to say much—just a few lines about how the book made you feel.
CLICK HERE to visit the review page for Riptide of Romance
Thank you so much for being one of the awesome people who reads my stories. I appreciate you!
THANKS FROM JENNIFER
Thank you so much for reading Riptide of Romance. I need to acknowledge some of the folks who’ve made this book possible. Big thanks to all my early readers: Kerry Pedlow, Jennille Smith, Rachel Goodman, Bobbi Roque and Caro Begin.
A deep bow to Bobbie French, reader extraordinaire who won the “Name A Character After You” contest. I adore the character of Bobbie. Thanks for letting me create your fun namesake. It was a blast.
Hats off to the lovely and talented Krista Wilkinson who gave me the details on setting up Lola’s dream studio. I’m so happy we met through your sister who cuts hair for us lucky folks in Laguna Beach.
My editor, Alyssa Archer deserves an acknowledgment all her own for her impeccable work. Her editorial comments are fantastic. Alyssa, your friendship is a rare treasure.
And finally, my husband, Kerry. You taught me how to surf waves everywhere from Laguna to Tahiti. Thanks for putting up with my endless staring out windows as my characters wrestle for attention in my brain.
After receiving so much help, I hope that I can give back a little. Check out the offer below to get your free book. I’ll also add you to my Readers Group and keep you updated on everything Pleasure Point Series related. Get ready for more sexy surfers!
Claim Your Special Offer
He’s a hot Brazilian pro-surfer.
She’s a free-spirited artist.
Will their passion come in with the tide?
Click the link to get Oceans of Obsession for free!
CLICK HERE TO GET YOUR FREE NOVELLA!
Want more sexy surfers? It’s your lucky day!
Peaks of Passion: Pleasure Point Series Book One
An 18-year old surfing god. A seductive older woman. Will their passion come in with the tide?
Click HERE to buy Peaks of Passion today!
Surge of Lust: Pleasure Point Series Book Two
Wild waves by day. Wealthy women by night. Can Jax handle his steamy double life?
Buy Surge of Lust HERE and turn up the heat today!
Waves of Desire: Pleasure Point Series Book Three
Wild wipeouts. Shocking secrets. Scorching sex.
Click HERE for Waves of Desire and feel the adrenaline today!
Pleasure Point: The Complete Series
Get Peaks of Passion, Surge of Lust, Waves of Desire PLUS Oceans of Obsession - Pleasure Point Series Prequel in this box set.
Click HERE for Pleasure Point: The Complete Series and feel the love today!
Sea of Seduction: A Single Dad Sports Romance
She bet on passion. He’ll wager it all for a big wave. Will love ever be in the cards?
Click HERE for Sea of Seduction and fall in love today!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
When not writing, Jennifer enjoys surfing, yoga, hiking, rock climbing and trapeze flying. She has one surfer boy husband, and one white cat named Snow White. She lives in Laguna Beach, California.
CREDITS
Editing by Alyssa Archer
Cover Design by Inspired Cover Designs
Interior Layout by Polgarus Studio
Chapter Heading Artwork by Kerry McQuaide
COPYRIGHT
Copyright © 2018 Jennifer Jones
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
ttons">share
Riptide of Romance: A Fake Marriage Sports Romance (Pleasure Point Series) Page 26